


Sunshine and Snickerdoodles

by soutang



Category: Original Work
Genre: Horror, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Universe, Psychological Horror, Rabbits, Religious Cults, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unreliable Narrator, oof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23435614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soutang/pseuds/soutang
Summary: In a world full of liars, someone is bound to crack; however, who it is...may not be who you think.In this story, do not believe what you hear or what you see, for every person has an ulterior motive. Everyone is hiding behind a mask. What they hide...remains to be seen.Be warned, this is not a lighthearted tale, for life is not a series of Sunshine and Snickerdoodles.
Kudos: 2





	Sunshine and Snickerdoodles

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on here and I'm a little nervous. I don't know how well this story will go over with others, but I hope people like it all the same. So, enjoy and thank you for reading.

"Please state your name and relation to the defendant."

The young female on the witness stand swallowed thickly, "My name is Maralynn McConnell. I am Peter's... the defendant's former significant other."

"Former? Did you and Mr. Winters end your relationship?" 

Maralynn nodded, "Yes, it was considered mutual."

Not exactly, her mind supplied. Peter had initiated the termination of their relationship, saying they both needed space. When he had called to break up, Maralynn simply brushed it off and said she agreed whole-heartedly. In reality, she ended up crying for weeks. 

"Was Mr. Winters ever violent with you while you were together?" 

She shook her head, "No, never. He was always afraid he'd hurt me, so he'd always ask for permission beforehand."

This was true. Peter had always been nervous of hurting Maralynn. Since Peter was a year older, he felt the urge to protect Maralynn from any harm - similar to an older brother protecting his younger sister. He also wanted to make sure Maralynn never experienced the pain of heartbreak. Peter would actively intimidate boys who dared flirt or charm Maralynn, keeping her far from those who planned to hurt her. 

Little did he know, he caused the worst breakup she had ever experienced. 

The prosecutor leaned against the witness stand. "He never made any violent motion? Never made any suggestions that may appear to come off as aggressive?"

"No, sir. He was a kind person."

"Was he easily angered?" 

Maralynn bit her lip lightly, "Well...yes, sir."

The prosecutor raised an eyebrow, as if encouraging her to continue. 

"He always had this terrible temper. It was always the little idle things that angered him the most. If he couldn't control it, he was frustrated with it." 

"What would Mr. Winters do when he was angered?" 

She swallowed nervously, "He would...yell and on rare occasions throw pillows across the room...but he would never throw them at anyone. Peter...I mean...Mr. Winters is a harmless man, he is incapable of committing…"

The prosecutor had a strange glint in his eyes, "Committing murder?"

Maralynn looked away from his gaze, "...yes."

The prosecutor pushed himself away from the witness stand with grace. He paced in front of the stand with a sense of confidence, as if he knew the chips were falling in line for his case. 

"Tell me, Ms. McConnell, when was the last time you were in contact with the defendant?" 

"July 3rd, 1951, late at night."

"Ms. McConnell, can you remind the jury of the event that occurred that night?" 

As discreet as she could be, Maralynn wiped her hands on her skirt, "...it was the night both Mr. and Mrs. Winters and their neighbor...it was the night they both were murdered, sir." 

"How did the defendant contact you, Ms. McConnell?"

"He telephoned me, sir." 

"What did he say?" 

"He...he said that something had happened. He wouldn't explain exactly what had happened, only that it was terrible. He sounded...unusually calm regarding the circumstances." 

Unusually calm isn't the best way to describe his phone call. When Peter had called, he sounded worried, either for himself or her, but she wasn't sure which. His voice sounded strained, as if he had been crying, but it was difficult for Maralynn to hear as he whispered. He was calm, but also sounded nervous in some ways. 

"Did he say anything else?"

"He explained that he wouldn't be in touch with me for a while. It was as if something had come up and he could no longer see me. I tried to ask him what he meant, but he answered, 'Now isn't the time.' Peter...I mean...Mr. Winters proceeded to make small talk, asking about my grandfather and the weather." 

The prosecutor stopped pacing. He turned to Maralynn, gave her a small smile, and addressed the judge, "No further questions your honor." 

Dread overflowed in her stomach. Regardless of what she said, none of it could make the jury doubt the prosecutor's case. She knew not of the previous evidence provided. Technology had advanced more than she was acutely aware of. The world of criminal justice was no longer reliant on hearsay, but rather conclusive evidence.

It didn't take a genius to know the jury was in favor of the prosecutor's case. The prosecuting lawyer was confident and experienced. The papers on his desk were neatly arranged; therefore, information and evidence could easily be accessed. Even the prosecutor's questions were organized, as if he knew exactly what he wanted to hear. In contrast, the defense attorney was nervous and inexperienced. The attorney's papers were crumbled and scattered across the desk, causing his information and evidence to be difficult to find. 

The defense attorney stood up, ready to ask his set of questions. 

He walked carefully over to the witness stand and placed an elbow on the wood, "Ms. McConnell, how long have you known my client?" 

Maralynn hesitated. 

The question seemed simple enough, how long had she known Peter? She racked her brain for the answer, but it failed to come. To Maralynn, it felt like she had known Peter since the dawn of time. Her earliest memories were with Peter. In grade school, Peter would push Maralynn on the swings, even if she was a smelly first grader and he was a second grader. During the summer, they would ride their bikes to Mr. Sampson's Ol' Ice Cream Parlor. Along the way they would ride their bikes past a close friend's house. The red haired boy, Travis, often would follow the pair along like a shadow. Even though Maralynn had been a grade below both Travis and Peter, they befriended her almost automatically. They had all been friends ever since grade school. 

That is...until recent events. 

Maralynn swallowed, worried she took too long to answer. The defense attorney looked at Maralynn nervously, the sweat on his brow glistening in the courtroom light. 

"I suppose I've known him as far back as grade school, sir." 

The defense attorney let out a small breath he had been holding, "So, would you say you know my client well?" 

Did she? She thought she knew Peter like the back of his hand. She knew what music he listened to when he was stressed or happy. She knew his favorite place to go when he would paint. She knew his family very well, as they had practically adopted her at a young age. She had been close, and even closer while they had dated. 

Looking back, had she really known Peter at all? She knew the basics of him, things that other people didn't know about him, and even the more complicated things he had never told his parents. Was any of it true though? When she had gotten a subpoena to testify in court, Maralynn had been confused. Sure, Peter had contacted her, his voice sounding strained as if he had just been crying, but she had thought nothing of it. Had it been strange at first? Undoubtedly, yes. But Maralynn had marked it off as Peter being worried for her health and safety, as he had always been since her mother died. Looking back, the phone call seemed more and more unlike Peter the longer she thought about it.

"I believe so, yes." 

I believe so isn't a good answer, her mind supplied her. Maralynn's mother had always nagged her about needing to be direct with answers. It was either yes or no not maybe or I believe so. Being uncertain wouldn't help Peter's case. 

The defense attorney gestured in Peter's direction, "Ms. McConnell, tell me. Is the man you see sitting in handcuffs the same man you knew then?" 

Was he? He appeared to be, but appearances can be deceiving. 

But he had to be. 

The Peter she knew would have never committed a crime like this. He was practically incapable of committing the highest crime of them all - murder. The most he could do was stealing, although he'd feel guilty shortly after. Murder? That word and Peter clashed heavily. 

Maralynn nodded confidently, "Yes. He's never changed." 

The defense attorney walked away from the witness stand, turning to face the audience. "Ms. McConnell, is the man you see before you the same one you fell in love with?" 

He's the man I am still in love with, her mind replied. 

"Yes."   
  
"Ms. McConnell, were you close with the Winters? Not just their son?" 

"Yes. They practically adopted me after my mother passed." 

The Winters hadn't adopted her, although she always has wished they did. They treated her with care, as if Maralynn was their own daughter. Her own father couldn't bother to show Maralynn the same kind of love the Winters did. Several times a week, the Winters would often invite her over for a family dinner. Her own father couldn't bother to make dinner, and would often get aggressive with Maralynn when she refused to cook. The Winters taught her compassion, her father taught her the world wasn't fair. 

"I was very close to the Winters, yes." 

"Did Peter love his parents?"

"Undoubtedly, yes."   
  
"Was there ever any tension between Peter and his parents? Anything that would cause Peter to commit murder?"  
  
"Never. I've never seen a family like the Winters get along as well as they do."

The defense attorney turned to face Maralynn, "Ms. McConnell, I only have one more question. Do you believe in God?" 

The prosecutor jumped up, "Your honor, I object. The defense's question has no relevance to the case."   
  
The judge, who had rarely spoken until now, coughed. "Very well. Mr. Carisle, you may continue." 

The defense attorney nodded, "I have no further questions, your honor." 

The judge nodded and turned to face Maralynn, who looked at him with wide eyes. "Thank you, Ms. McConnell, you may be excused." 

Maralynn felt herself go pale as the shariff escorted her down the witness stand. Had she helped Peter? Would the jury see him as innocent with her testimony? Had she even made a difference? 

As the sheriff escorted her out of the courtroom, Maralynn locked eyes with Peter, who had been looking down at his lap throughout her testimony. She felt her heart drop at the look in his eyes - empty, like a man surrendering himself as guilty. 

Peter knew he had already lost. 

__________________🐰__________________

  
"Please state your name and relation to the defendant."

A young man dressed in a green plaid suit, sat up in his chair, wincing as it squeaked. He ran a hand over his slicked back hair, his fingers catching in the loose red tangles. 

He licked his lips, "My name is Travis Steeler. I knew the defendant in childhood."

The prosecutor paced in front of the audience, "So, Mr. Steeler, were you close to the defendant?"   
  
Travis crossed one leg over the other from behind the witness stand, "I used to be, yes." 

"Used to be?"  
  
"Well, we were close friends; however, after graduation, Peter decided to go down a different route than the rest of us. You see, Peter was more interested in the unconventional. He wanted to go into a career involving photography or art. While he stayed behind, almost the rest of the graduating class fled to the bigger cities. I personally moved out to Albany, working in the field of business."

"What did Mr. Winters photograph?" 

"Weird things. He often sneaked into abandoned buildings and took photographs in them. He once tried to convince me to go with him into the Weinstein House. I mean, what kind of person wants to go into that death trap?" 

Travis could still remember the last photograph Peter had shown him. It was a beautifully taken photograph, the clearest he had taken yet. In the photograph, the sun shined on the focus of the picture in a golden haze, reminiscent of a halo. The sun's golden shine had a dreamlike effect, lighting up the picture. The focus of the photograph was a small rabbit the color of obsidian. The rabbit seemed oddly placed, as the purely black creature seemed out of its element. It was as if the animal was a black burn on a photograph of nature. It was ethereal, as if a figment of imagination. 

"Mr. Winters had a frequent habit of trespassing?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Did Mr. Winters have violent tendencies? Any action that might seem odd or strange?"

Travis sat back in his chair, "He had terrible fits of anger. Once, when we were children, he got into a fight with one of the school children. I'm not sure why he initiated the confrontation, but in the end, the child was sent home with a broken wrist."

False, his conscience told him. 

The truth was, Peter had gotten into a fight while they were young. The fight had been initiated by the other person, but for no reason at all. He had broken the child's arm; however, he had been extremely regretful after doing so. Travis had been annoyed when Peter dragged him out to the child's home. Peter had personally made an apology cake, with the word sorry written in red icing. 

Peter had violent outbursts, but he was always guilty for them afterward. He was nothing but a giant bear who hated hurting others.

"Peter was one of those people who got angry quite frequently. I don't remember a time where he wasn't frustrated out of his mind."

"Mr. Steeler, did the defendant ever have any obsessions?" 

"Yes. When I last spoke to Peter, he was obsessed with this random black rabbit he had found. At first I thought it odd, but I simply ignored it." 

The prosecutor picked up a carefully sealed object from his desk. He approached the witness stand with it, holding it out for Travis to take. 

Travis sat up in his seat, carefully taking the bag in his hands. Carefully sealed in the bag was a small photograph. Travis squinted, looking deeper at the image. Through the plastic bag, he could see the sun shining on a blackened object. 

Travis jolted in his seat. 

It was the last picture Peter had ever shown him. It was that damn rabbit. 

"This is the rabbit he was obsessed with."

"Did Peter seem irrational the last time you spoke to him?" 

Travis, caught in the gaze of the rabbit's eyes, spoke quietly, "Yes." 

Travis cleared his throat, looking away from the animal. He handed the bagged photograph to the prosecutor, "He was acting as if someone was watching him. He mentioned something about 'the rabbit did it'. He made no sense, talking in incomplete sentences, mentioning that stupid rabbit over and over again. I'm no doctor sir, but he certainly seemed off his rocker at the time." 

"Did Mr. Winters ever tell you who the rabbit was?"

Travis shook his head, "No. I tried to ask, but he refused to answer." 

Travis could still remember every detail of the phone call. Peter had been hysterical, repeating 'it wasn't me, the rabbit did it' until his breath ran completely out. When he would ask who the rabbit referred to, Peter would lash out at him, screaming about 'not being allowed to say'. Travis chalked it up to some kind of drug abuse, but deep within his mind he felt it was something more. After several minutes had gone by, with little information exchanged between the two, Travis had hung up. Never in his life was he terrified of Peter, but in that moment, he surely was. 

The prosecutor leaned against the witness stand, "Mr. Steeler, when did the defendant contact you?" 

"July 3rd, 1951, at about eleven that night." 

The prosecutor looked deep into Travis's eyes, "No further questions, your honor."

As the prosecutor sat down, the defense attorney stood up, approaching the witness stand, "Mr. Steeler, how long have you known my client?" 

"Ever since grade school, sir."

"Has Peter ever acted aggressive to you?"

Travis hesitated, "Yes. We had a childish feud between us over a girl we both fancied."

The defense attorney put his hands in his pockets, "Was this girl Maralynn McConnell, the defendant's former girlfriend?" 

"Yes, sir. We both tried to win her affection, but she chose Peter. I respected her decision and left her alone." 

"While they were dating, did you ever hear of Peter acting aggressive towards Ms. McConnell?" 

"Yes. There were a few instances where Maralynn had confessed to Peter's violent outbursts." 

Liar, his moral compass responded. Peter would never do such a thing. 

"She told me how he had harmed her, but she was always fearful of the consequences for Peter. It was always the simple stuff, like grabbing onto her wrists too tight where it would create bruising." 

Are you sure you aren't projecting your own parents into this story? 

"Shortly after their relationship ended, she confessed it all to me - the bruises, the items thrown at her, and the slurs he called her. She was crying hysterically, as if lifting off this great weight off her shoulders was painful." 

Why are you lying? His moral compass yelled at him. You know what will happen if they find out you lied in court. They'll catch you, and you'll end up where Peter is right now. Then what? All of it will be in vain. Maralynn will never love you if she finds out you lied, nor if you are in prison.

But I can't let him go free, Travis thought. Maralynn is mine...I won't let that criminal touch her. 

The defense attorney looked baffled and alarmed of Travis's confession. The evidence Travis was providing was going against his case, sinking Peter further down the rabbit hole into a death sentence. 

The defense attorney cleared his throat, "Mr. Steeler, when I conversed with Mr. Winters during our first meeting, he mentioned something curious." 

Curious about Maralynn? 

"He mentioned mailing you something the week prior to the murders. Mr. Winters said the package contained not only a letter, but photo evidence of the real criminal?" 

Shit, Travis thought. During the course of Peter's trial, he had never thought the stupid letter Peter sent would come up. Travis had received a letter from Peter, although when it had arrived, word of Peter's crimes had already reached him. Once the letter arrived, Travis had stuffed it in-between the books on his shelf, never opening it to see the contents inside. 

Travis had no idea what was inside the letter, although he doubted it would have helped. Travis had no doubt in his mind, Peter couldn't escape punishment. While he hadn't been as violent as Travis had described him to be, Peter had the capability to murder like any other person. Any one was capable of murder, but only the insane could actually perform it. 

He sat up tall in his chair, casually wiping the sweat off his palms, "I never received a letter." 

Travis caught Peter's eyes, full of anger, "Sorry to disappoint." 

The defense attorney smiled towards the judge, trying to hide his nervousness. He rubbed his hands together, gritting his teeth as he said, "No further questions, your honor." 

With a wave of the judge's hand, one of the officers escorted Travis out of the courtroom. As he left the humid room, Travis avoided Peter's intense gaze like the plague. 

Travis knew if he looked, even for a second, into Peter's steel blue eyes, Travis would crack. He would admit every wrong he had ever committed or lie he had told. All his effort would be for nought. 

He refused to let Maralynn get away from him again. 

__________________🐰__________________  


  
It was agonizing, waiting for the verdict from the jury. Maralynn had been standing outside of the courtroom for what felt like ages. The ticks from the clock were maddening, pulsating and rattling around in her brain. Each tick felt like a taunt, deteriorating her hope as the seconds went by. 

Maralynn wasn't sure how long the jury had been debating their verdict. Even though she wasn't religious, she prayed to whatever God existed that Peter would be deemed not guilty. As she did so, doubt clouded her mind. 

Maralynn chewed the inside of her cheek as Travis left the bathroom, wringing his hands.

She scooted over on the hallway bench as Travis moved to sit down. With minimal movements, he sat down, crossing one leg over the other. He placed a slender, pale hand on Maralynn's clothed knee, squeezing it comfortingly. She gave her friend a small smile, avoiding his piercing blue eyes, asking the one question she wanted to avoid. 

Was she okay? 

The answer? Not even she knew. 

She brought up a petite hand, twisting at the sandy blonde strands of hair that had fallen out of her bun. One of Travis's cold hands grabbed Maralynn's hand, stopping her from further tugging at her hair. 

She sighed, letting her hand fall into her lap, "What do you think they'll say?" 

Travis stiffened beside her. 

He couldn't tell Maralynn the truth. Even without his testimony, Peter was sunk. While he didn't know of the evidence they had gathered against him, there were far too many coincidences for Peter to be innocent. 

Travis shifted his weight, turning his body towards her, "I'm...not sure." 

Saying that he wasn't sure was far better than telling the truth. Travis couldn't lie to Maralynn, couldn't bear to see her face fill up with hope even if he knew the harsh reality. It was better to compromise...and avoid the topic altogether. 

Maralynn's face fell at Travis's response. It wasn't the answer she wanted, but it was better than no answer. 

From further down the hallway, one of the deputies left the courtroom. Spotting the two, he made a vague motion, as if telling them to enter. 

The jury had decided. 

Next to her, Travis stood up, patting down the wrinkles in his suit. Maralynn, however, remained motionless. 

Dread swarmed her senses. 

What if all her effort was for nothing? Had she sunk Peter into the chair? Did she do anything to prove his innocence? 

What if he was sentenced to death because she hadn't told the whole truth? 

That was ridiculous, Maralynn concluded. She shook her head, taking the hand Travis had been holding out for her to take. Gently, he helped her to her feet. 

The pair walked slowly to the courtroom, Maralynn's arm in Travis's. As they passed by the deputy, Travis gave a small nod to the man, as if telling him thank you. 

At their entrance, a few of the other audience members turned their heads. Maralynn felt haunted by their knowing and judgemental looks, they were here for him, the monster who supposedly killed five innocent people. Head lost in her thoughts, she barely registered Travis helping her sit down in one of the empty benches. He gently patted her arm in a comforting manner as the judge sat down in his seat.   
  
One of the officers opened a door towards the back of the room behind the jury stand. One by one, the group stepped out from the room, sitting in their seats. A dozen ordinary citizens sat at the jury stand, each dress in their nicest attire. Unlike Maralynn and Travis, both who had worn fancy and professional clothing, most of the jury were dressed in nice, although old, shirts. The women, as few as they were, wore their hair up in messy buns and braids, keeping their hair out of their faces. The men wore nice shirts, not the crisp button up like Travis, but clean and ironed short sleeved shirts tucked into their jeans. They looked like average people who had come from church, not a jury who could sentence a man to death. 

Each person looked worn out, a few wiping off the sweat gathering on their brow. One of the men’s faces was beet red, which Maralynn could only assume was from either embarrassment or anger. 

Maralynn only could hope his anger was in defense of Peter...although she doubted it. 

The judge adjusted his robes, smoothing them down as he cleared out his throat. He addressed the jury, “What is the jury’s verdict?” 

One of the members stood up, an older gentleman with a peppered, full beard and his flannel untucked, and coughed. He looked only at the judge, as if avoiding the gaze of those gathered in guilt. 

As the man opened his mouth to speak, Travis squeezed Maralynn’s hand. It was only then she realized she had been gripping his hand as if it was her only lifeline. At the moment,it was. 

“Your honor, we the jury have decided. The verdict is…” 

Maralynn felt time stop. Around her she could hear a few of the audience members mumbling under their breath, but she could not make out words. She could feel Travis pulling her into him, wrapping his arms around her deathly still body, but she barely registered it. She could hear the judge making his final call, slamming the gavel down twice. In the back of her mind she could hear the words rattling in her head, but she could not understand them. It was as if life existed outside of her consciousness. 

As if she too was dying. 

And how she wished she was, but it wasn’t her clock that had suddenly lost time. 

It was Peter’s.   
  
For his time had run out.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said in the summary, this isn't a happy and fun story. Now, there are going to be happy moments, but towards the end, this story is going to get dark. 
> 
> You've been warned.


End file.
